Evlogimenio Dilitirio
by Blessed Poison
Summary: What happens when Venena Potter's search for peace pulls her into Middle Earth? How will she and her soul mate fit into the quest of the ring? Fem!Harry MOD!Harry Intelligent!Harry Harry/Severus
1. Chapter 1- The Beginning

Evlohimenio Dilitirio

Chapter 1- The Beginning

Evlohimenio Dilitirio, or Venena, as she allowed herself to be called, looked across the planes of this new world and sighed. She wondered vaguely why she had arrived here but considering her life, she wasn't particularly surprised… nothing important ever went as she hoped. Her true mother had died in childbirth and in his grief her father had followed after her; they had been a nomadic couple, rare for their kind, who saw and loved the magics of nature more even than their elvin kin. Her father, despite his selfishness and wanting the best for her, locked away her full powers, and allowed the gods to direct her destiny.

Not liking to dwell in the past, Venena focused her mind and began the process of concealing herself; she willed her eyes to dull into a human green, still striking but not glowing with power, her figure to shrink from a towering 6"2' to a respectable 5"8', and toned down the ethereal glow of her skin to that of a relatively healthy human. Her long, waving, brown hair, she tied back into a loose but serviceable knot.

She then began to walk and test the magics around her; they appeared to be closely in tune with her own core and, to her astonishment, she realized that her magic was dancing with that of Nature. Contemplating the implications of this, she allowed Nature to lead her to a spring, sat beside an ancient tree, and leaned against its powerful trunk. It was truly a peaceful place; a cliff rose up from her right, the field from which she had come spread out behind the tree she leaned against. The spring fed into a pure brook which flowed slowly into an ancient forest. Wild flowers and prickly bushed surrounded the glen.

Venena closed her eyes and 'organized her mind' though she allowed a pang of loss to flit through her at that particular turn of phrase. She had left earth, she knew that much; nowhere on earth had nature greeted her in such a way. The ritual had been rather complicated, but quite doable with the extensive knowledge she had gained; it was _supposed_ to bring her to her loved one. One- not many, for she was bitter to those who she had once called friends. Venena had not lived an easy life; her human parents had died when she was not far past one year old. They had prayed to the gods of old, after finding themselves barren and in war with two dark lords; they had bartered their long lives to Hades in exchange for a savior and a daughter… they had not realized that both would come in one being, but they died for her all the same.

Voldemort's curse had rebounded because of their love and Dumbles had placed her with abusive relatives. Venena allowed herself to recall her childhood; it has been a lonely one and a painful one. She'd been forced to work as a house elf, beaten, locked away, starved, and savaged… the only ray of hope she had was her side soul, Tom. It had not been the evil portion of Voldemort's soul which had attached itself to her, but the smallest part of his soul that still cared, regretted past actions, and retained the child's innocence and the adults' knowledge. Tom had revealed to her her powers as a witch. He had taught her to focus herself, to learn of people, to heal her physical hurts with will. He had taught her to think like an adult by age 9 and use sarcasm as a shield by 10. But the most important lessons which she learned were those of empathy and acting. Thus, she knew how others expected her to act and so shielded herself by complying.

For the Dursleys she was the perfect submissive and servant. For the school she was the perfect Gryffindor. For Dumbles she was the perfect weapon. And for the Masses she was their scape-goat, their hero, and their figure head. Her friends were paid to spy on her by Dumbles and for his expectations she was tested yearly in cruel ways. She was forced to kill a possessed professor at age 11. She was forced to kill a basilisk and a murderous Tom at age 12. She was forced to relive the murder of her human parents, the suicide of her father, and confront the man who betrayed her parents, and the man who cared more for revenge then for his goddaughter at age 13. She was forced to fight for her life against dragons, dark creatures, and a resurrected dark lord at age 14. At 15 she was possessed and tortured and Dumbles expounded upon the prophesy she'd already heard half of from Tom. In the summer of her 16th year she emancipated herself and, with the help of the goblins and her side-soul, destroyed the soul of Helga's cup- for even the goblins had agreed that this was a magic too dark to be tolerated. She'd destroyed the soul of the locket found in her Black volts and traveled to the Gaunt property to destroy the soul and claim the resurrection stone by right of blood… for through the blood adoption of her mortal Father she was the rightful heir of the Peverell brothers. At 16 she disarmed Dumbles in the form of Draco, accepted ownership of the elder wand, allowed Dumbles to live, and snickered when Dumbles powers had been reduced by half by the loss of the wand… the icing on the cake was when he couldn't get Draco to recall any memory of the night in question, let alone the location of his former wand. Thus, she became the "Master of Death" and came into her true inheritance, which included an elvish figure- though she could retain a human form, at age 17.

Venena, called Rosa Potter on Earth, could not die. She could not fade; for her human adoption blocked this trait while on earth. She could not age past 27. She need not eat. She needed little sleep. And she could control the pain of one's passing. She re-named herself Evlohimenio Dilitirio, or Venena, but remained Rosa- human- for those of earth. She had the powers to be a God but remained to call for Judgment those Lords who had murdered her parents and her chance of earthly peace.

At age 18 she killed Voldemort's snake and remained living while allowing Tom, her side-soul, to die. She encased Tom in light, eased his passing to brightness and set about killing- in painful vengeance- the final piece of Voldemort's shattered soul. Thanks to Dumbles, she was declared a danger to the public and so lived in the shadows.

Venena spent the next 50 years of her life slowly and painfully bringing down Dumbledore for the torture he had made sure she endured. She kept death from taking him as her mate inflicted his body with plague and pestilence. She turned the media against him and rose from the shows as the hope for any believing in the side of grey, peace, tolerance, and compromise. She raised up those who could lead the Magic World to greatness, contracted an assassin to kill her, and allowed a deadly curse to claim her, and so disappeared from her public. She then traveled and learned with her one love, the one who had stood by her always and had tried to protect her throughout it all, and though he aged, she removed any sign of it until at age 441- 400 years after they had first bonded- the rules of nature and calls of gods claimed it time that he move on lest fate be unwound. And though she grieved, Venena could not fade.

In this mind, Venena consulted Death and found a ritual of peace. She had collected her belongings, and those of her love, shrunk them into cases which she held to her person, and so was transported to the plane upon which she had awoken roughly three hours ago. Now though, she considered, perchance, that she was dead; for she would only find true peace with her mate and she had done a ritual to find peace. Though she doubted her luck would allow such a fancy, she mentally requested Death attend to her and while waiting murmured, "Where the Hell have I gotten myself to now?"

"You probably should've wondered that before you attempted that ritual you idiot" smirked Death as he hovered a few feet from her.

Venena snorted, "I was attempting to find some peace…" and in saying this it occurred to her, "it was obviously a flawed ritual if you can still come to me."

"If I can't have your soul I can _at least_ attempt to steal your sanity oh Great Master," quipped her companion knowing that Venena would likely find this amusing.

The response came quickly, "And you said I'm an idiot?! You're intentionally annoying the one who could force you to follow the etiquette of the Gods and you're smiling about it!"

Safe in the knowledge that his Master was not one for formalities, he blew a raspberry at her and laughed.

'At least he's consistent" thought Venena… It was rather comforting, this quibbling, but she truly did need some answers and so… "Death, could you tell me where I am?"

"Certainly Oh Great One… you are currently resting against an old tree beside a spring, a cliff, a field, and a forest"

'He just had to be a pain on this one didn't he?' Venena thought… She raised an eyebrow at Death and glared at him.

"Fine." Death sulked in a child-like fashion. "You are currently located in the realm of Arnor on the northern edge of the Hills of Evendium. You have been brought to the land through which your parents wondered. In this land you may earn the good will of Eru Lluvatar, the top God here; If you manage to assist this land in his will, he may grant you your mate… you are the Daughter of Tulkas and Nessa deities, or spirits, if you will. Tulkas is the Gardian of Valinor-home of the Gods of this earth and pure elven kind- and he is a great warrior, though he favors his fist over any weapon. Nessa is a dancer of great agility and speed. Your powers of death make you kin to Mandos, the keeper of elven souls."

'Dang,' thought Venena, "I'm a god… !?."

Only when Death responded did she realize that she'd said the latter part aloud, "Oh, get over yourself kid…"- Venena snorted, for she _was_ over 400 years old- " You are rather unique; you are of the Valar; you are more powerful than the Istari (the old wizards and messengers of the Valar) and maiar yet you will remain an elf for so long as you are my Master. You are a Witch with magical abilities beyond that exercised by any of the Valar, for your powers need not be drawn from the nature created by them, but from your own magical core. Your Magic is from Earth but your Powers are of Arda- Middle Earth." This said, Death bowed with a flourish and disappeared.

'This was certainly food for thought' considered Venena before putting it to the side of her mind. She decided that it would be best to have a base of operations and so called upon the magic of her core and the power of her land and requested that each work with her to create a place of peace. She didn't really have any particular form in mind and so channeled her powers and magic at the cliff on the opposing side of the spring with the idea of a safe haven in mind. In the hours that passed, the cliff, woods, and spring merged. The rock of the cliff-side and wood became one and formed a cottage of many rooms, some build into the cliff while some extended into the forest. The water crystallized and formed ruins of peace, harmony, protection, encouragement, magic, curiosity, nature, and power into the conglomerate of living wood and rock. Exhausted, Venena jumped the brook and entered the comely cottage castle.

The first room she came to was that of a living room; the floor was covered by a weave of the softest grasses and the ceiling was arched as the trees had grown together to form a ethereal covering that would block all harsh elements but allow in the sun from any angle it may shine from. To the left was a similar room, though one in which the roots of the trees had shifted to form a table for many, chairs, and a moss floor. A final room to the left held the set up of a kitchen, leaves, trunks, roots, and rock had woven together to create cupboards, a countertop, and, in the cliff face, a oven and chimney. The floor held a mosaic of beautiful and whimsical designs fashioned with valuable gems of the mountain. Built into the cliff-face behind the kitchen was a simple bedroom; a bed frame of roots with a mattress of the softest leaves was placed with the head against the west wall. The floor of this room required one to step up three steps to enter the room; this allowed the cliff face to open at the top of the wall beyond the kitchen's branched roof for light to stream in.

To the right of the living room was a room which now encased much of the clear spring. On the far side, reeds had grown into rock which had extended from the cliff. If one were to look at this room from Venena's leaning tree, they would assume it was part of the cliff face and that the water came from a faucet further into the mountain. To the left when coming into this room a passage with stairs spiraling up the cliff's insides was visible. Vanena followed these stairs and came to a bright room, perfect for a library above but behind the living room. This room had book cases of sparkling gems along all walls and tables which had grown up from the ground. Lounge chairs and great round pillows of the softest dirt covered in moss were placed around the room. The whole upper portion of the cliff face for this room was open to the forest with a view of the brook and northern fields. It was framed by ivy and rose vines climbing up the cliff face. Through another door way further left was a slightly smaller room, opened over the kitchen with a view of the forest, though the brook could be heard and the fields could be glimpsed. Rock and wood had grown together to create an open office layout.

Going back to the library, Venena noticed an entrance way containing similarly spiraling stairs to the left of those she had ascended from. At the top she looked right through an entrance way into what was obviously a study and potions laboratory, for half of it contained worktables and past a low dividing wall half of it contained more bookcases. There was no entrance to the left, so she followed a corridor further into the cliff-side. At the end of the corridor, just before a sharp left, there was an entrance to a room to the right. This was likely to become a room of requirement if, or when. she had to time to create the spells for it. Following the corridor to the left, there were two bedrooms, one located above the library, though slightly smaller than the library, and one located above the office, though quite a bit bigger than the office. She claimed this one for herself and requested that the stone add a closet and a staircase leading from her room down into the office. Going to the Cliff face she looked through the ivy and roses into the forest and sighed. It had been a long day, and even with the help of nature, she had extended a lot of magic to create this haven. She walked to the living wood and stone bed frame, whose head was located on the eastern most edge of her room. She called water from the spring to become a mattress in the bed and casts a layer of magic to hold to together before falling into it for an exhausted slumber.

Venena awoke with the rising of the sun as its rays ghosted over her face the following morning. She shot upright when realizing that she had not warded her dwelling before sleeping. She glanced around quickly before casting a spell to identify any beings which may have wandered into her home and relaxed when it identified none. Going to the window of the second bedroom- the room which retained the most panoramic view of the area- she began to ward her haven against any and all. Any evil being which attempted to cross her wards would immediately be turned to ash. Any human who stumbled across her dwelling would be able to observe the first level of her home, but only an elf would be able to see all of it. No being would be allowed to enter into her haven without her express invitation. No being would be able to find her home a second time unless they were in grave peril or she allowed it. No one who found her house would leave with the ability to tell any what they had found… though they could give general directions to any who were in great need of help. Done warding, Venena left the window to go bath in the spring room.


	2. Chapter 2- Of Travels and Speech

Author Note- Hello my dear readers; I've never posted nor written fanfiction before, though I've read more than my fair share of it, and this is the first story I've written. This being said I've got a couple of things to mention.

1) Please review or PM me; knowing what I'm doing right (or what might need work) will be a great encouragement (and goodness knows I'll not get that from home).

2) My plan is to update once every week or two; I have no intention of ever abandoning this story, but I'll promise you that if I've got at least one faithful follower, this story won't go unfinished.

3) Here is a list of word meanings that will likely prove helpful from here on out;

Evlohimenio Dilitirio- slightly altered spelling for the Greek words meaning 'blessed poison'

Venena- 'poison' in Latin

Sanitas Lamina- 'healing blade' in Latin

Cientia- 'Knowledge'in Latin

Abscondita- 'Secrets' in Latin

Chapter 2- Of Travels and Speech

Once she emerged refreshed, she set about unshrinking her possessions and placing them in niches provided by the wooden stone or in the cabinets or closets provided for storage. She unpacked her mates' possessions as well and placed them throughout the house. Once finished she nodded to herself, ate some of the food she had brought with her, and then went out to contemplate her next move; she sat by her Thinking Tree across the brook and considered… She could apparate only to places she had actually been and in this new world, that included only the field from which she had walked and her haven, the The Haven, as she'd decided to call it. Not knowing the surroundings seemed to be a major flaw to her mind and so she resolved to rectify this; she would travel and return home as the whim took her.

Thus decided, Evlohimenio Dilitirio traveled. Nature guided her way in this new land. She traveled south, skirting the dwellings of men to answer a call to the Shire. Though it was against her better judgment, Venena revealed herself to a happy, but struggling Hobbit couple who lived at the northernmost part of the shire along the southern edge of the Hills of Evendium. She had observed these children, for this is what they were to her eyes, struggle to keep up their fields and constantly patching up their hobbit hole. From her observations they lived in what was once a great village but she could taste in the air and the fields that an evil had fallen onto them and, to their credit, they were the only who remained. At first she had decided simply to do the occasional good deed for them; one morning in the spring time, they returned from second breakfast to find that their entire field had been tilled- a process which usually took half a month.

She had moved on from their dwelling to continue her travels through the Shire but had returned each night to observe their struggles and occasionally lend an anonymous hand. It was on one such evening, just as the sun was setting, that creatures of darkness came from the hills. They were warped creatures stinking of stale blood and decaying remains; from her cover she observed these humanoid evils lay siege to the hobbit hole and she could sense their lust to torture the pure souls she could feel hiding in the lowest reaches of their fortified hole.

For all she had acted over her years, she truly did have a hero complex; her mate had called it a SPD or Saving People Disease. Not able to stand by when she heard the door of their home fall, she had removed Cientia and Abscondita from their sheaths and in her rage, slew- without magic- the 16 orcs invading the hole. Her movements were more fluid than any dancer for she had trained in the art of sword with her Mate since the first week of their coupling and the longer she resided on Arda the stronger the Powers of the Valar reined within her. Some of the fell creatures attempted to flee into the hole… 'Foolish of them really,' Venena considered as she followed them inside; she shrunk herself another three inches to better fit into the hole. As she was slaying the last of the beasts a shadow crossed her vision and she began to turn as a blade descended upon her back. It was a ragged cut and, though not the worst wound she'd ever received, was incredibly painful. She ignored this and was raising her blades to dismember the orc when it was hit unceremoniously over the head with a heavy fry pan. She slashed its neck as it fell before cleaning her blades and returning them to their proper sheaths.

She thought to turn to go, but the eyes of the male hobbit requested answers. She sighed and greeted, "Well met sir; I thank you for your assistance in dispatching the creature who harmed me." The hobbit looked startled and responded in a language unknown to Venena… 'There's no use for it,' she supposed and wordlessly cast a translation spell, repeated her greeting, and waited for the man to respond again.

The Hobbit raised his eyebrows, wondering why the warrior women had not spoken in Westeron to begin with. She was a strange one to his eyes; she wore loose black pants which flared and were tight only at the waist. Were it not for her warrior stance he might have believed her to wear a skirt. She wore black boots made of a material he had never seen before. Her blouse was a black just lighter than her pants. Its fabric wound up her torso at an angle, but stopped horizontally just below her collar bones. Inch wide straps plunged into a deep back and currently framed a harsh and jagged gash. Black armguards wound up her arms stopping just below her shoulders to allow a full range of movement. Her brilliant green eyes glittered an _almost_ inhuman green while her waving dark brunet hair was pulled back into a loose pony tail; some strands had escaped its tie during the battle and flew around her face. He was shaken out of his inspection by a slight touch to his shoulder from his wife, Evelan.

He responded, "Well met Lady warrior, welcome to our home… I would invite you in, but you seem to have invited yourself." This rather aloof greeting earned him an elbow to his ribs from the wife and a mildly amused look from the strange lady.

She spoke, her voice held music and strength, "I admire your spunk Sir… though I know not what creature you are… May I have your name?"

Mildly shocked by the human's ignorance he spoke, "I am a hobbit, as is my wife, and most all who live in the Shire. My name is Tum, Tumson Underton and my wife is called Evelan. And you are…?"

She hummed to herself for a moment; something in this hobbit couple drew her honesty. "I am Evlohimenio Dilitirio. You may call me Venena. I know not how to describe my race, but I am a wonderer and champion of those I deem worthy of my protection. I have not been in this world long and you are the first with whom I have spoken. It appears that my native language is not yours."

This left Tum rather confused, for he could understand her perfectly. In seeing his expression she explained, "I have gifts which aid my quest to assist others, one of which is a translation charm. I invoked this when I realized we could not understand each other."

"You are an Istari… from the old tales?!" spoke Evelan for the first time.

Venena turned her gaze to the female hobbit, "I may know little about this world and its tales, but I am not one of the Istari… their powers come only from nature. Mine do not." Venena considered her options before offering, "I have watched from afar while you struggled valiantly these past three years…" Tum began to suspect that she was the cause of any blessed occurrence which had passed their way; he focused again on Venena, "I have assisted when I could. I shall help you more though I must ask that you share my presence with no-one. I believe that my time has not yet come." She trailed off in a wistful manner.

Evelan spoke up- ever the diplomatic and practical one of the hobbit couple, "Whatever you are, that's a nasty scratch on your back. You saved our lives. At least allow me to bandage up your back dear… it can't be feeling all that great."

The warrior responded with a snort but acquiesced and allowed herself to lead to a bedroom by Evelan while Tum went to the kitchen to scrape together a nighttime supper.

After Venena was bandaged up, Evelan spoke to her, "You'll be staying here until you learn a bit more about our world and heal. It be Orcs which you battled; they be evil and love killing. We be hobbits. The race of Men live beyond our borders; if you've traveled any you've least seen their places." Here Venena nodded- she would accept the wisdom of these Hobbits, help them where she could, and learn what languages they could teach her in the human fashion. Were they Men or Elves, she could reach into their minds and learn the knowledge quickly… Nature guided her against doing so with these beings and so she had spent the next year as a member of their household, only spending the occasional week in her Haven. Evelan and Tum swore by their name that neither them nor any of their posterity would reveal the existence of Venena and so Venena trusted them and gave their family her trust and protection for Time.

Now, over a hundred years past her first meeting with the Underton couple, she had traveled among the villages of men, south past the shire, Far East into the easterlands, back into Gondor, and again north into Rohan. She spoke fluent Easterling and Common Speech. She spoke Rohirric and Dunelandish. She communed with the trees of the Fangorn forest and so learned the tongue of the Valar from the song of Yavanna which whispered to the Trees. She traveled from there to Brown Lands north of Mordor. She came too close to Mordor and in this land she was overrun; the stagnate evil of the Ered Lithui stunted her Magic while her power withered as her hardship increased. She spent many months, or years- for in the darkness she could not tell- in the tender keeping of the Orcs and, despite the tortures, she learned the language of the Orcs and the Black Speech of Sauron. Her escape came near the hundredth time she had been brought to the brink of Death. As its Master she could not bow to it and so Eru granted permission that Death remove her from her peril and place her in the keeping of the Dwarfs.

In the golden halls of the Iron Hills her physical hurts were healed. For their care, she protected the Dwarfs as though they were her own, bested them in drinking, lead them to grand gems, and learned with reverent dedication the arts of their crafts. They adopted her as their own and taught her the guarded language of Khuzdul and the signed language of lglishmek; she taught them some of the healing arts of the Valar and for her care of his creation gained the good will of Aule, or Mahal, the Maker. For all her influence, though, dwarfs were still mortal beings. Those she cared for most passed on and so she wondered again.

Venena wondered the grey mountains and the northern realm which had once belonging to the Witch King of Angmar. She passed through the Ettenmoors, through the Weather Hills, the Northern Downs, the Old Forest. For all that she had seen of the world, all that she had done or been subject too, she had not truly found her peace or healed from the tortures casts upon her or the loss of her mate. As was her habit each year when she was able, she stopped in to entertain the most direct descendents of the Undertons. The young Hobbit, however, was not in… nor did it appear he had been in residence for the past five months. Calling on nature for an explanation she observed the Hobbit, a party of Dwarfs, and an elder Istari passing through Mirkwood on a quest to reclaim Erebor, the Lonely Mountain. She sighed at their foolishness- for it was greed which had resulted in the mountain's loss to begin with- but decided that it was not for her to interfere with an Istari's quest; the Valar should have a reason to have allowed it.

As it was, Venena was tired. It was not a physical tiredness, but one of an individual who had seen much suffering, lived through much loss, and was mentally exhausted. With this in mind, Evlohimenio Dilitirio, decided to end her wondering days and truly settle into the Haven; it had been 390 years since she had first arrived in Middle Earth and for all Venena had fought it since arriving, she was began to fade from grief and hardship.

Author's note: I figured that since this is my first story, I'd treat you to two chapters this week… I typically won't have time to do so, but I hope you enjoyed it! I'll do my best to update again by Wednesday of next week.


	3. Chapter 3- Of Company and Companions

I OWN NOTHING OF LOTR OR HP AND GAIN NOTHING (BUT AMUSEMENT) FROM THE MINIPULATION OF J.R.R. TOLKIEN AND J.K. ROWLING'S STORIES.

Author's Note- Hello my faithful readers, here is the third chapter as promised. I hope it meets your expectations! A special thanks to everyone who has reviewed or PM'd me; it's because of you guys that I could get this chapter out so quickly… half a week earlier than expected! Enjoy.

Just so you know, the name meanings of characters I make up are generally reflective of the individual's personality and/or position… this being said here are the translations of elvish names found in this chapter;

Dae- Shadow

Lorthonor- Old Pine

Lumornor- Tree Shade

Huron- Readiness for Action/Vigour/ Fiery Spirit

Dimaethor- Silent Warrior

Hador- Thrower of Spears

Megilagor- Rapid Sword

While I love and appreciate the LOTRs elvish language, I'm currently teaching myself Russian and Spanish (and nowhere near fluent yet) and so used an internet translator for the elvish names… my apologies if they're somehow incorrect.

Chapter 3- Of Company and Companions

Returning to her home, Venena began a life of simplicity and determination. She would rise each day and enter into the forest. She would follow the call of nature collecting berries, fruits, barks, herbs, medicines, and nuts eating few and storing much. From the spirit of Este she learned more in the arts of healing and compassion. From Orome's spirit she learned the elven tongue and the Art of the Huntsman. While in the woods, fields, and mountains surrounding her Haven Venena would remain in her true elvish form and exude an ethereal radiance which could shadow even the purest maiar. It was in this form- eight years after the quest of the Lonely Mountain when her home gained her first visitor.

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Aragorn son of Arathorn, in a fit of annoyance at Lord Elrond, had disobeyed his commands, donned his ranger garb, and gone to hunt the orcs who were terrorizing villages of northern Arnor. It was a youthful folly spurred by the fact that Arwen- his eternal love- had called him a child. He departed in the dead of night and rode hard from Rivendel. He made it to a village just south of the Ice bay of Forochel roughly three weeks after departing. By now he was feeling rather lonely and was just a tad sulky; his guard was down and his horse was spent and the Orcs tracking him knew it. As he neared the town, a small pack of wargs lead by a larger pack of orcs began to attack. Aragorn did his best to fend them off, but they had almost succeeded in circling him; he was bleeding from multiple wounds, had obtained a broken arm curtsey of a warg bite, and was beginning to accept that he would die when an elven warrior holding two blazing swords danced her way around the pack slaying first the 6 remaining wargs before advancing on the 18 orcs. The orcs screamed their passing in such a way that it was as if all the torture they wished upon others was multiplied tenfold and directed back at them as they died. Aragorn was fading, but he could have sworn that black, leathery, though still angelic, wings were attached to his savior's back as she(?!) dealt death to the evil surrounding him. He passed out as the figure began to approach him.

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Venena had been tracking a pack of orcs and wargs who had taken it into their mind that it would be great fun to sack the villages closest to her Haven. It was irritating that they grew so bold, but at least they had mostly learned not to come near her home; Venena guestamated that at least 1,000 dark creatures had perished to her wards since she had placed them for they often traveled as packs and at least twice a year a pack would stumble near her dwelling only to be turned to ash. With the wards being up for around 400 years, it was little wonder the numbers added up. She turned her mind to the pack she was currently hunting; there were roughly 23 orcs and 7 wargs and it seemed to her that they were tracking a being as well. She sent out her power into nature and sensed one with a mark of destiny upon him; he was more pure than anything human she had come across, but not as pure as the elven places felt. Considering how saving this mortal could change her course, for before now she had avoided the elves; paying them mind would have changed their reluctance to help Bilbo and without the quest to the Lonely Mountain going as it had, all songs of the Valar would have conflicted, Venena missed the start of the battle.

Hearing the clang of metals and a scream of pain, she leapt into action. His screams reminded her of hers when she was detained in Mordor; remembering this, fury burned within her. She lit a flame to her loyal blades, Cientia and Abscondita, and dove into battle, wishing just a portion of the torture she had endured into those that she slew. The wings she'd gained as Death's Master sprouted as she used power she had gained from Death to slay so many. She set fire to the creatures, pulled in her wings, and sheathed her swords before turning to Elrond's wayward ward. She could sense the elven blood in him and because of this tapped into the healing power of the land, set the bones and stemmed the flow of blood. She then lifted him with her magic and began the half day walk back to her home; she had rarely apparated with another being while in this land and so decided not to risk his health by doing so- one not born with magic did not always take its use for instantaneous transportation well. As she walked Venena hummed; she was not one for singing but would indulge in a healing tune to ease the aches of this boy. As the sun was setting on the northern plane, Evlohimenio Dilitirio- brought her first visitor into The Haven since its creation 398 years before.

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The elven rangers were growing more concerned by the day. They were instructed to travel after their Lord's ward, protect him, and return him to the keeping of Rivendel. In his haste Aragorn was becoming sloppy; in the three and a half weeks they had been after him his trail was becoming more obvious and his mount's gate was becoming weaker. The trail they were following lead them to a burned pile of corpses which they had hastily determined belonged to wargs, orcs, and one noble mount. They tracked the pattern of battle.

Aragorn, they determined, had been ambushed- if one could be ambushed by a pack of beast who had failed greatly, according to their tracks, to remain silent. He had fought desperately but they could see the pool of blood within his lying indention; this could only mean that he was dead or that help had come… but there were no tracks and there was no body. At a loss, they called to their reluctant companion, a dark haired elf who insisted upon being called Sanitas Lamina, though he refused to explain the name. He claimed no Lord, though he was courteous enough to theirs. He had been among them for five years, though none could remember when he had first appeared, and they accepted him as though he had been with them for ages. He had an unusual air about him, tinted in mystery and marred in sadness. He spoke little, angered slowly, and, when he felt it necessary to give an opinion, it was often in a cutting tone and included harsh truths. His accent was such that no elf who had heard him speak could identify his origin. Despite his strangeness, he was accepted for he had saved many an elven life- including those of Lord Elrond's sons- in battle with orcs and, in a strange tongue, he could alleviate the wounds of those most hurt… Even their Lord was at a loss- though he did not admit it- to explain how his healing powers worked. As it was, Sanitas Lamina was a tracker who need not see tracks to follow his prey and so the ranger elves called upon him to find their ward.

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Sanitas Lamina had been plagued with a feeling of apprehension since he had first felt the call to accompany the elven rangers on their mission to apprehend the wayward ward and future king of Arnor and Gondor, 'Gods help them' he thought whenever his thoughts turned to Aragorn and his spoiled youth, 'the hooligan needs a strong dose of reality and an angst check before anyone should allow him to even think on the throne!' When he had arrived in Arda- just outside the wards of Rivendel- it had been accompanied with strict instructions that he hide his Magic and his Tale until such a time as he had been reunited with his wife. He had complied, for he had had enough of the presence of quibbling deities with their arrogant etiquettes and power struggles. He had observed the elven magics of healing and protection and applied his own magic for healing only when using elven ways couldn't be applied in time; they believed him a great healer, though in truth Lord Elrond and his wife were his betters. Now though, he had a ward to find. He stretched out his magic and let out a gasp… it couldn't be! He focused his mind in a frenzy and tested the air and grasses surrounding his party. He had anticipated centuries more waiting before he would be reunited with his love; eagerness limited his thoughts as he began to run.

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The elven party was completely baffled; they had heard the soft gasp loosed by Sanitas and had become confused. Sanitas was never surprised by anything. Now, though, he was running like an elf possessed… it even appeared that he had forgotten the presence of his horse. They glanced around themselves to ensure that their companion wasn't running _from_ anything- though that would have been even stranger than his being surprised- before mounting their horses, taking the reins of Dae- the horse of their mysterious friend, and following after him.

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Venena bathed the slightly fevered face of the mysterious youngling in her care; she had a feeling that the boy needed to learn from his wounds- for whatever had caused him to ride his horse to its death and ignore the signs of an obvious ambush was youthful folly and needed to be nipped in the bud. She had found pain to be an apt teacher and so only cleaned and sealed his wounds; as it was, he would not be fit to travel for many weeks. 'Perhaps coming close to death may teach him prudence' she considered.

She had removed her stores from the bedroom behind the kitchen to an extremely large cellar- which her magic and Nature had seen fit to form under the kitchen; the cliff had extended its rock to encompass this new storage area and so keep anything to be stored cooler if warranted. Her ward, she had placed in the, now clear, bedroom.

She was leaving the young one to attend to a healing salve she was brewing when she felt a disturbance in her wards the like of which she had not felt in neigh four centuries. She unconsciously dropped all pretenses of her physical form and, with a shake of her head, sprinted out to meet her guests.

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Sanitas Lamina had continued to run at such a pace and with such stamina that his elven companions found themselves wondering what spurred him to such speeds. Within some miles of their travel they had surmised that their ward was likely suffering great torture from a mighty foe- for why else would their tracker be in such haste- and so had overtaken him, urged him onto his horse, and followed him toward the base of the northernmost Evendium Hills. As they were approaching the forest surrounding the great hills, they felt themselves pass through a barrier of great power; it felt somewhat akin to arriving in the elven lands surrounding Rivendel or Lorien but the power felt foreign with only threads of elvish power and Nature flowing through it. They drew their swords and prayed to any of the Valar who might aid them to do so… for if the being that protected this land was a foe to them, they knew they were unlikely to leave alive.

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Sanitas, however, reacted very differently than his elvish counterparts when crossing the wards and felt almost complete as his magic began to dance with that of Evlohimenio Dilitirio- his most beloved Venena; it had been long since his magic had the company of another's- let alone that of his mate. He leapt from his loyal Dea and sprinted the final distance into the arms of his soul-mate who had just jumped the brook. With mirroring cries of "Vena" and "Sev" they locked onto each other beside the Thinking Tree. Their hands roamed over each other's arms, torso, back, and face trying to ensure that their mate was solid, was real. Their knees gave out and their eyes met. Venena's wings came around Sanitas protectively as their minds mingled… greeting, sharing, comforting, and living, for in the half hour they remained entangled, they exchanged their tales of separation. They breathed heavily, calming themselves, and soothing each other before leaving each other's minds, sharing a _relatively_ quick kiss (plus some), and rising to greet the waiting elves.

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The elven rangers had born the strange greeting, and being ignored, with much curiosity, great awe, and a respectful impatience. Their fear of a powerful being had turned to great anxiety when they had seen the ethereal female elf charging toward their companion, but their anxiety had turned to complete shock when it registered that the being had wings and that their moody companion obviously knew her. After about five minutes of staring at the duo- who had all but disappeared behind said wings- and waiting to be acknowledged, they realized that it was likely going to be a rather prolonged greeting. Lorthonor, generally accepted as the leader of this group, looked around and, seeing no immediate danger and a general consensus, gave a nod for the others to dismount, sheath their weapons, and observe their surroundings. Lorthonor stayed by their companion, Lumornor remained with him and their horses. The rest of the party; Megilagor, Huron, Hador, and Dimaethor crossed the brook to investigate in the direction from which the being had come.

Soon after crossing the brook, the investigative group let loose gasps themselves, for from this side of the brook they could see the entrance to the Haven- for when the cliff had been brought out to cover much of the spring, it had provided a shield from the north eastern side. The whole of the structure was formed with the mesh of living wood, sentient stone, and crystallized water. Above the first level of the Haven, set into the face of the cliff, they could observe two levels of balconies framed by ivy and climbing rose vines. The combination of forest and cliff was what one might expect if the woods of Lorien and the grandeur of Rivendel combined… though the peace it exuded surpassed both. The elves bowed to the structure, felt Nature's approval at such an action, and returned to Lorthonor and Lumornor. Such a place was not to be entered without the invitation of the being who resided inside of it.

Lorthonor and Lumornor had alternately been observing the winged being with their companion and watching the planes from whence they came and so were surprised to find their companions back amongst them just five minutes after they'd departed. In whispered elvish, Huron, the elf most likely to charge first into action, explained to the two who'd stayed behind, "It is not our place to enter this woods or The Haven within it without a call to do so; we will wait here." Saying this, he joined his companions in sitting by the brook and waiting.

Their leader shared a look with Lumornor before the two crossed the brook themselves. With their view unobstructed, their reaction to the Haven was the same as their companions; they stared in awe for some time before bowing and withdrawing respectfully to the far side of the brook. Huron was correct. It was not their place to invade a place emanating such beauty, peace, and protection; if their ward was, indeed, inside then they need not worry for his safety. Lumornor and Lorthonor joined their companions by the brook and bathed in the purity of Nature they felt permeating the area.

Roughly fifteen minutes- and a magically silenced snogging secession- later, the elven rangers were drawn from their musings as their companion and the Being stood. It was the Being who spoke first, though it did not go un-noticed that neither Sanitas Lamina nor She had released eachother's hands.

"Well met Lorthonor, Lumornor, Diamaethor, Hador, Huron, and Megilagor. Elven rangers, you are most welcome here. The one you were sent to recover is, himself, recovering. Though I feel the touch of Destiny upon him, I believe it would be most wise to allow further healing to occur under his own power; it was youthful follies which lead him to this place; let the pain teach him his lesson." Though her tone held warning that their ward was to be left to heal without further help, her voice was like a balm as the group listened, healing many aches they did not realize they possessed.

Dimaethor spoke up- though it was not often he did so- asking, "Lady, you look as though you are an elf, yet you have wings as though you are an eagle. Your voice has the power of the Valar, but never have I felt wards such as yours. If I may ask…" Here he faltered for he truly wished to avoid offending this Being. He looked into her face and found permission to continue and what might have been veiled amusement. He began again, "If I may ask m'Lady, who and _what_ are you?"

Sanitas Lamina snorted, earning a reproachful look followed by a chuckle from the Being. Sanitas simply raised an eyebrow, held back an answering chuckle, and asked, "Indeed m'Vena, do tell what you are."

Anything she might have responded with was drowned out by a loud explosion and a strange looking vapor escaping from the open cliff-side two stories above the covered spring room. The elves had all pulled their swords at the explosive sound and crouched in a warrior's stance facing the direction of the cliff while the Being cursed in Dwarfish.

Sanitas, however, identifying the sound with practiced ease, turned to Venena and snarked, "I thought the potions explosions had ceased once you'd gotten your masters, m'Lady."

Venena responded shortly, "You distracted me you fiend! They only explode when I'm engaged in snogging you!"

"In this case, I'll accept your excuse… though only if you explain to our confused companions what 'snogging' is…"

Venena gave him her acceptance of terms by banishing her husband into the spring before turning to her very confused visitors and smiling, "I am called Evlohimenio Dilitirio; you may call me Lady Venena or Venena though if you wish. Sanitas is now inside- I expect that he will be dry again by the time we join him." Her visitors exchanged somewhat concerned and still confused looks and so she took pity on them, "I am a being of the Valar, of Elves, of Magic, of Men, and of Death. I banished my husband- for Sanitas Lamina is indeed my husband- to the spring for landing me with the task of explaining the meaning of the word 'snogging' to you…"

The elven rangers, now somewhat less concerned- though generally more confused,- allowed themselves to be lead over the brook and into the Haven as their host explained the dialogue between herself and their companion… They found themselves fighting the urge to blush when they realized that not all that occurred in the hidden embrace of Lady Venena's wings was strictly platonic, but they were intrigued with the idea of potions and fascinated by the puzzle their host presented.

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A note on Healing- While Magical healing techniques are efficient and don't really cause the peoples of Middle Earth harm, they are more strenuous on the body not used to Magic. This means a couple of things;

1) Magic can heal the scrapes, broken bones, bruises, etc but Elvish healing takes to the bodies of middle earthen's in a more harmonious way; Magical healing might be quicker, but Elvish healing is less of a shock to the body. (This is one of the reasons Sanitas Lamina was told to use Magical healing as a later resort.)

2) The longer someone is around Venena, Sanitas, or their Magics (wards, amulets, etc), the more easily their body accepts Magical healing; Venena and Sev are Magical, and as such, the longer someone is around their magic the more accepting their body is of Magical healing. (This is why Venena calls upon Nature, rather than her Magic when patching up Aragorn.)

(Please tell me if I need to explain this more and I'll see what I can do.)

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Author's note- My dear readers, I need to read up on my ancient mythology and middle earth history to ensure a timeline/story that's actually semi-probable, but plan to have the next chapter to you two Mondays from Memorial Day. Please Review or PM me!


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